Keeping mum and dad
by bec7012
Summary: Maid Marian and her merry men fic. Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

**Keeping mum… er again.**

Summary: We met Marian's mother but what about Robin's parents? It can only mean disaster, especially since they're determined to see him happily married, well married at least, so they can get the grandchildren they've always wanted. Shouldn't be hard, marrying off the famous Robin Hood, should it? Throw in another of Rose's schemes, and the King doing the unthinkable, remembering there's more of England to tax than the small village of Worksop. Oh, yes and Gary and Graeme try to write a popular children's novel.

Disclaimer: I own neither show, nor characters. In fact i even stole some of the quotes and plot...

A/N: apologies if this seems a little awkward in places, my ides ha dissues with not being written in srcipt format.

**Chapter 1**

"You know what I don't get?" asked Gary to Graeme one dull grey afternoon as they strolled along the road back to the castle, having just had the Kings copy of 'Larry Otter and the goblet of wine' stolen from them by Robin Hood and his fearsome gang of merry men, "why an otter would want a glass of wine anyway."

"Well," explained the elder, " why not, I mean I'd love a nice glass of wine, and you like drinking wine too Gary. I bet even the sheriff enjoys wine, don't you sheriff?"

"What Graeme?" snapped the Sheriff.

"You like wine don't you sheriff?"

"Yes Graeme," came the response through gritted teeth.

"See Gary," continued the guard, "If I like wine, and you like wine, and the sheriff likes wine, there's no reason an otter shouldn't like wine."

"Suppose so," agreed Gary, " can't think it'd make much of a story though."

"Oh I don't know," argued Graeme, "I mean how would the otter get the wine, and once he'd got it how would he pick up the goblet…"

"Will you two shut up!" snapped the sheriff, " if we don't find a way to get that book back the king is going to pull our insides outside, shove them through an electric blender set on speed level 5 and them tip them back over our bodies so we look like we've been contestants on a particularly violent episode of Noels house party!"

"I don't think so sir," said Gary

" And why not?"

"Well electricity hasn't been invented yet sir, he'd have to use the hand blender."

"Or," put in Graeme, "more likely make us do it."

"I don't think I'd like to be gunged though," added Gary thoughtfully, "it'd stain my uniform."

"Yeah, and we'd have to meet that annoying bloke with the beard and the bad taste in jumpers,"

"I'd like to meet the big pink thing with all the spots though."

"GAH!" yelled the sheriff irritably as he stormed off in front of them.

"Wonder what his problem is?" asked Gary as they carried on strolling behind.

* * *

"Robin, will you put down that stupid book and help me get the post," called Marian groaning as she tugged fruitlessly at an arrow pinning several pieces of paper to a tree, "I can't get the arrow out!" 

"But Marian," complained the coward, "this is really gripping stuff: see there's this teenage lizard called Larry Otter and he goes to this school," he began explaining excitedly, "but it's not boring like normal school, and he learns lots of cool things like how change cows into chickens, and make turnips grow really, really big…"

"Oh do shut up Robin," said Marian, "Rabies, will you come and pull this arrow out, I don't know what I was thinking asking Robin anyway, he's about as useless as the left handed pair of scissors was to anyone in my class at school, well except lizzie the left handed loner, and she never used them anyway, preferred to sit in a corner and eat glue."

"And then," continued Robin oblivious to the fact no one was listening, " he has to fight this evil dude called King Mouldy Wart…"

"What?" cut in Marian, suddenly interested in Robin's story.

"I said he has to fight this evil dude, well him and his friends do: there's Tom he's got ginger hair and is completely useless, and then there's the really clever girl who's name I can't remember…"

"No Robin, what was the villains name?" asked Marian as Rabies pulled effortlessly at the arrow, failing to free the post but succeeding in ripping the tree for it roots and lifting it in the air, held by the arrow.

"King mouldy wart," replied Robin, "he's really powerful and everything, and he wants to destroy all the mugs in the world, though I'm not sure quite why yet…" A puzzled look spread across the outlaws face as he went back to reading his book.

"_King _Mouldy Wart_, eh?" _mused Marian, "John's not going to like that: it's probably a good thing we got this book."

"Morning," called Barrington as he walked into the camp whistling merrily, "eh Rabies what you doing with that tree?"

"I dunno, what am I doing with this tree?" asked Rabies.

"You're getting the mail," replied Marian, "so Barrington where have you been? Not got a girlfriend you've been sneaking off to visit?"

"Nah Marian" replied Barrington smiling, "don't be ridiculous that'd be far too much of a story line for me, after all I am basically the narrator, and some comic relief."

"Now come on Barrington," scolded Maid Marian, "this whole show is comic relief, you're as much of a character of the rest of us."

"Maybe," agreed Barrington, "but none of you are ever over come with the urge to recap today's happenings in the form of song are you?"

"No," conceded Marian.

"We all do our fair share of singing though," chipped in Robin remembering his Elvis style Karaoke about Chop Suey.

"How do I even know what's going on at Nottingham castle anyway?" asked Barrington worriedly.

"Hmmm," said Marian as an idea sprung into her head, "I don't know but it's a useful talent for us to use once and then ignore,"

"Like his impersonations?" asked Little Ron

"Exactly little Ron," agreed Marian, "so come on Barrington, give us a song."

(The tune of Kiss the girl from the little mermaid plays in the background. )

_There you see it_

_Sitting there in that tree  
it has got a lot to say_

_But there's an arrow in it.  
And you don't know why,  
but you're dying to try_

_You want to,  
check the mail_

_Yes, you want to -Look at it._

_You know you do_

_Possibly there's none for you_

_But there's one way to find out_

_It don't take a word,  
not a single word, go on and  
Check the mail_

_Dear oh dear_

_Look at it sitting there  
you wanna check the mail…_

"Ok Barrington Ok," snapped Marian, "that was really helpful, I mean its not like that was what I was trying to do anyway!"

"Sorry Marian," apologised the Rastafarian, "but I can't help what it says: I'm just the messenger."

"I don't suppose you could get the mail then could you Barrington? Little Ron can't reach it, I couldn't get it out, Rabies got half way through the task and forgot what he was doing and Robin, well he's Robin really isn't he?"

"Sure thing Marian." Walking across to the tree, which Rabies had now put down, he pulled out the arrow with only a little straining, and looked at the letters."

"Anything interesting?" asked Marian.

"Bill, Bill, Junk mail, Junk mail, my subscription to musical narration monthly, and ooh a letter for Robin."

"Really?" asked the outlaw, "chuck it over then."

* * *

"NOTTINGHAM!" roared the king, "where's my book?" 

"The thing is your majesty," began the sheriff searching for an excuse, "they'd sold out your majesty."

"SOLD OUT!"

"Yes your majesty," put in Graeme, " you forgot to pre-order your copy didn't you sire?"

"Well," began the king his face turning red, "I shouldn't have to I'm king."

"Yes sire," continued Gary, "Don't worry Sire, they'll get another delivery in as soon.

"No they won't," whispered the Sheriff sharply, "this is the 12th century: everything has to be hand written. It'll probably be another year before any more copies come out."

"Oh. Well then: never mind sire you don't like reading anyway"

"Who says?"

"You do your majesty," responded Graeme, "you said that on your list of favourite things to do that reading was so far down that only number 14 (having your sister do that thing with the pencils that you hate so much done to you) and number 783 (maths) were lower down."

"Yes well," grumbled the king, "I don't care: I want my book!"

"Don't worry your majesty," said the sheriff slimily, "we'll get one for you," he paused and muttered quietly, "somehow"

"Come on Gary, Graeme," he yelled striding out of the castle, "I have an idea."

Tbc.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **i still don't own it, so please don't sue... erm no money is being made off this **  
**

**A/N: **well sorry about the long delay between this update, i blame exams and laziness. Anyway you've got my lovely new Beta to thank/blame for it being finished at all.

**Dedications: **from now on this fic is dedicated to my best friend yeknodletil for lending me the videos which inspired me to write it and Fudge1 for the encouragement that forced me stop reading power rangers fics and continue it. **  
**

**Chapter 2 :**

**(Worksop Market place) **

"Excuse me," said a voice from behind Snooker, as he finished nailing up his sign: Sorry, No Copies of Larry Otter Here.

"Can't you read?" he asked irritably, turning round to face a well dressed woman in early middle age and an older, slightly balding man. "No copies of Larry Otter here."

"Well, really!" replied the woman, sounding offended, "there's no need to be rude. That wasn't even what I was going to ask!"

"Oh, alright then," grunted Snooker, "what were you going to ask?"

"We wanted to know if you knew where we might find Robin of Kensington."

"Robin of Kensington?" asked Snooker. "Never heard of him."

"Are you sure?" asked the woman. "This _is_ Worksop?"

"Yes, but I told you, I haven't heard of him," replied Snooker, "and I know everyone in these parts."

"Oh dear," sighed the woman, "and he said he was popular."

"Now dear," comforted the man putting an arm around his shoulder, "surely you must have learnt not to believe Robin's stories by now?"

"I suppose so," she agreed gloomily, "after all, in his last letter he did try to claim he was Robin Hood…"

"Robin Hood?" asked Snooker with a sudden interest. "Is that who you're looking for?"

"Well… I…" began the man

"Because if it is, why didn't you just say so? I can take you to him no problem…"

"I suppose he could have fooled this poor villager with his stories," whispered the woman to her husband.

"I suppose," he agreed before responding to Snooker. "Yes, that is who we are looking for."

"Right then, you'll be wanting the secret hide out then," he paused. "Hang on, there's something I'm supposed to do before sending people to their hide out, what was it? Wait a minute… oh, I don't know." He turned around to look at an old woman piling mud into a saucepan and yelled, "Gladys what is it I'm supposed to ask to people who are looking for Robin's secret hide out?"

"Do you want to buy some mud pie?" yelled back Gladys.

"No," replied Snooker, "that's not is."

"Who the dickens is Noel Edmunds?"

"No! Wait, I know: who are you?"

"We're Robin's parents."

"So you don't work for the Sheriff then?"

"No."

"Well, then you'll want to head into the forest…"

* * *

"Sheriff," said Graeme from behind a tree, "I don't think this is a very good plan." 

"And why not Graeme?"

"Well sir, we never get away with things like this," replied the guard.

"Yes sire, every time we try, me and Graeme end up covered in something disgusting."

"Like eggs."

"Or gunge."

"Or chicken feathers. It's just not fair, sire."

" But this time boys, I have a foolproof plan, which is a good thing considering the fools I work with."

"Sheriff, I really don't think…"

"That's right, Gary, you don't! Look, it's perfectly simple: I pretend to be the author of the book –"

"K. J. Growling?" interrupted Gary.

"Yes, yes," dismissed the sheriff, "and then I go into Worksop and pretend I'm going to collect all the books up and sign them, and return them to their owner when I'm really going to collect them up and take them to the king. That should keep the old Walrus happy."

"But Sheriff…"

"Shut up Gary!"

* * *

"But Marian," begged Robin, "you don't understand." 

" Yes I do Robin, I understand perfectly."

"You do? Then you'll help me hide."

"I understand that when my mother wanted to stay you wouldn't let me turn her away, and now your parents want to visit I'm supposed to pretend we don't know you. I understand that this is the perfect opportunity for revenge."

"But…"

"No buts, Robin. When are they arriving?"

"Today," he admitted reluctantly

"Well then, I'll be kind."

"You'll tell them I'm not here?"

"No, but if you go into town and meet them I'll tidy up the hideout, even though it's supposed to be your turn. I'll even make you all some acorn fritters for when you get back."

"But…"

"Listen, why are you so against your parents visiting?" she paused thoughtfully. "They do know you're an outlaw, don't they?"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say they know…"

"So you haven't told them? Look Robin, if that's the problem, there's nothing to worry about! We managed to convinced my mother we were _dentists_, so I'm sure we can…"

"It's not that," interrupted the outlaw.

"Then what?"

"They want me to settle down, marry and have kids. You know, Marian, I'm not the marrying kind: I'm a free spirit, an outlaw, not the kind of man that needs to be tied down by something so tedious as marriage."

Marian stared at him for a moment and Robin wondered if she'd heard him correctly. Then her expression cleared and she burst out laughing. "You? Have Kids?" Marian managed between chuckles. "You act like such a child yourself: they'd end up looking after you! I mean you can't even wash your own socks…"

"I can too!"

"Robin, you jumped in the river wearing them, then spent the rest of the day complaining that they were wet! That does not constitute successfully washing your socks. Now go on, they're your parents: I'm sure we'll cope."

"Yes Marian," mumbled the outlaw gloomily, heading off toward the village.

"Although," added Marian thoughtfully to herself, "if they're anything like Robin I doubt that we will… now where did I put those acorns?"

"Alright there Marian?" called a voice from behind her.

"Oh, hello again Barrington, where'd you sneak off to? You haven't got a secret girlfriend have you?"

"Look Marian, we've been through this already! If we go through it again I'll develop an inferiority complex. If you must know I was off reading my copy of _Musical Narration Monthly_."

"Oh, any interesting articles?"

"There was one on successful romance commentary to the tune of Busted but with the amount of romance we get around here it'll be forever before I get to test it."

Marian raised an eyebrow. "Busted? They're really only for little girls."

"Like long hair?" he asked, smirking at Marian's freshly re-grown blonde locks.

* * *

"Greetings, villagers of Worksop" declared the Sheriff proudly, wearing a blue dress and blonde wig and standing on a cart, "I am K. J. Growling: author of the extremely successful _Larry Otter_ series and today I am offering you a once in a life time opportunity. In the next hour I will sign any _Larry Otter_ book you have."

There was an excited bustle amongst the villagers who had gathered.

"He's very convincing isn't he?" whispered Gary to Graeme. "If I didn't know it was him I'd be convinced."

"It's a good job we told him that K.J. Growling was a woman though, or he might have had some trouble."

"Yeah," agreed Gary.

"How much to have my copy of _The Torture Chamber of Secrets_ signed?" yelled someone from the crowd.

"How much?" asked the Sheriff, the customary look of pure evil spreading over his face. "Why, only 1 gold piece per person!"

"But we haven't got any gold pieces!" declared Gladys. "I say this almost every week and it's not going to change."

"Ah," said the Sheriff, once again resigned to the fact another cunning plan had failed. "Well, I'll accept anything that isn't mud."

"What about mud pie?" asked Gladys, "that's not mud."

* * *

"Rose!" called Guy excitedly, "Rose! Will you come and play with me?"

"Go away, Guy," responded Rose Scargill, shaking her dark hair to cover her face in order not to look at the King's nephew.

"But, Rose, I want you to play with me! I just got a package from my mummy and I want…

"Oh shut up Guy. Did no one ever tell you that: 'I wants never get' ?"

"But Rose, you're _always_ wanting things. Like when you wanted that spa break, or the Robin Hood museum, or…"

Rose flapped her hands in an attempt to get the idiot to shut up. "Alright, alright," she conceded, "but Guy, I actually go out and _get _what I want: I don't expect other people to give it to me. Now shut up or I'll kidnap you again."

"You can't because if you do my mummy will get a hold of you and she'll squeeze you and squeeze you like a big squeezy thing until all your yucky gooey bits fall out," Guy replied with much glee, threading his red cloak with the golden rocking horse pattern through his fingers.

"Your mum?" asked Rose, a smile spreading over her face. Anyone who had ever encountered 'Rotten' Rose knew that smile was dangerous, as it meant she had a Plan. "That gives me a really good idea about how I can get exactly what I want handed to me."

"Ooh, how Rose?" Guy was excited in spite of himself. It did not take much to excite Guy of Gisbourn.

"Benefits, Guy! If I become a mother the state offers some really good benefits to single working mothers. All I have to do is find the least suitable person to become a father." She glanced at Guy. He had a worryingly hopeful expression. "Well," she added, "the least suitable person I'm not repulsed by."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Maid Marian and her Merry men, so please don't sue. I also don't own enough imagination to come up with a creative disclaimer

**A/N: **Sorry about the long delay, I've been caught up in exams. **  
**

**Chapter 3:**

"Really," muttered Robin's mother unhappily as she and her husband found themselves entering the Worksop market place for the third time that morning, "those directions were completely useless."

"Indeed," agreed her husband, "the man who gave them was either winding us up or a complete idiot."

"I fear it may be the latter; it would explain why he believed our son was Robin Hood. Now, I wonder if there's anyone in this town who can give us _sensible_ directions to Robin's home…"

"Now!" called the Sherriff loudly once more, "Are there any more copies of _Larry Otter_ that you would like signed? Any at all? Perhaps one of my newest stories _Larry Otter and the Goblet of Wine_? No? No one?"

Stepping Down off the podium the Sheriff declared, "Now I must be getting back to the castle… er… publishers. I shall return tomorrow with these books freshly signed for you."

Resisting the urge to shove the brimming sack of books into the hands of Gary, he marched out of the village, passing a smartly dressed couple, as the two guards strolled as inconspicuously as they could behind him.

"I don't believe it," he announced angrily once they were clear of the village, "37 _Larry Otter _books in the village and not a single copy of Larry_ Otter and the Goblet of Win, _amongst them:I've got 14 _Larry Otter and the Torture Chamber of Secret_s, 11 _Larry Otter and the Lincolnshire Scone_, 10 O_rder of the Badger_ and even one copy of the charity released _Cabbages Through the Ages. _ What a waste of time that was! If we go back to the castle like this the King is going to barbeque us!"

"I doubt if the weather will hold Sheriff."

"Gary," replied the Sheriff, "if you don't shut up I will make sure that even if we do somehow find a copy of _Larry Otter and Goblet of Wine_ to satisfy our oversized monarch, you pair will still end up sizzling nicely on one of those ridiculously overpriced gas barbeques until you're black and crispy on the outside but still raw enough and inedible in the centre for the king to spit you out in disgust all over his hilariously funny novelty apron."

"The one that reads kiss the chef… or else you'll end up in the torture chamber?"

"Yes, Graeme, that one."

"I never thought that apron was very funny. Did you, Gary?"

"Not particularly. I prefer my mother's apron. It's yellow and has got flowers on it."

"Bet you prefer her cooking as well," replied the older guard.

"Yes, I do actually. She makes lovely mouse pies."

As they continued up towards the castle the Sheriff got more and more irritable as he attempted to ignore the inane conversation coming from behind him.

"Was that man wearing a dress?" asked Mrs of Kensington quietly to her husband.

He merely blinked and nodded.

"I do believe this village must be one of the oddest places in the country," continued Robin's mother. "I really think the chances our chances of finding a sensible person to ask about Robin's whereabouts are very slim."

"Yes dear."

As Rose entered the village alone, thankfully, Guy having given up trailing round after her when a parcel had arrived from his mother. She glanced around, pondering who to make the target of her latest scheme. Taking in the usual crowd she examined each of them, searching for the best candidate: Snooker – too disgusting, Gladys – too female, Cowpat – also female, Nettle – female, far too young, and far too Marian-ish. This was hopeless.

"Excuse me?" asked a voice behind her. "Excuse me, miss."

Spinning around a little frustrated, she found herself face to face with a reasonably attractive if slightly balding and middle aged man.

"Can I help you?" she asked, trying to keep her tone pleasant.

"My wife and I were wondering," he said gesturing to a slim, slightly younger woman, "if you could help point us in the direction of Robin of Kensington?"

"Robin?" asked Rose, as a visible spark of realisation appearing in her eyes. "Perfect!"

"Perfect?" asked the woman suspiciously

"Er, yes," she replied quickly, "that's where I was headed myself. I'll show you the way. So how do you know Robin?"

"We're his parents," replied the man, a little tired of having to explain that to people.

"Really?" asked Rose, seemingly interested. "Well, I'm Rose. I'm a good friend of your son. It's just this way."

Rose continued chatting amicably with the couple as she led them back into the forest, all the time her mind listing all the ways Robin was the perfect the victim of her plan whilst simultaneously attempting to figure out a way to use his parents to her advantage.

"So Sheriff," asked Gary as they strolled through the forest, "what are we going to do about this book?"

"I don't know Gary," snapped the Sheriff, "but I don't suppose there's any point asking you pair for ideas."

"Well actually," replied the elder guard, "I do have a suggestion."

"As I suspected, the concept of one of you having an idea pass through your thick skulls is about as likely as Girls Aloud making a pop video fully clothed…. Wait a minute, what did you say?"

"He said, 'I have a suggestion','" contributed Gary

"Well," said the Sheriff irritably, "what is it?"

"Why don't we just write our own book? He's not read any of the others, and he probably won't read it anyway once he's got it…"

"Graeme!" exclaimed the Sheriff, "it's a million to one chance, but that might just work…!"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** During the 2 years between updates, I have not gained the rights to Maid Marian and her Merry men. Shocking isn't it.

**A/N:** Because reviving a story that's been dead for 2 years seemed like a good idea. I genuinely don't expect anyone to read this, but here it is anyway.

**_Chapter 4 _**

"It's not far now," said Rose pushing her way through the trees, "Just watch out for the booby traps. There's a big pit covered in leaves and a boxing glove that will appear out of nowhere if your not careful."

"A Boxing glove?" asked Robin's mother incredulously

"Yes, though I don't know where they got that from. Must have stolen it I suppose but really who walks around carrying a boxing glove? It's not the best security system in the world but it works, fairly well."

"Who is it supposed to keep out? I can't imagine Robin has many enemies."

"Well, everyone really. I'm not exactly sure how to get through it myself, but if we wander around for a bit and make enough noise someone is bound to show up"

"Yes but why does he need all this protection, is it just to keep thieves out?"

"Thieves? No of course not... oh hang on it looks like someone's coming. HELLO OVER HERE!!"

Waving her arms wildly so as to attract attention, Rose considered briefly the loss of dignity this entailed, but upon deciding that it was rather more dignified than getting punched by a boxing glove that came out of nowhere, continued even more enthusiastically.

"OI RABIES! IS THAT YOU? COME OVER HERE!"

"Rabies?" mouthed Robin's mother shooting a glance at her husband that said: 'just what sort of people is our son associating with?' His responding shrug could either have meant "I'm not sure but it is an odd name isn't it?", or "Please stop trying to communicate with me non verbally, I never have any idea what you are trying to say."

"Rose?" asked Rabies as he got close enough to identify the figures, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm coming to visit; I found Robin's parents in Worksop and I offered to show them the way."

"Oh, but what's all the shouting about?"

"I..." she paused at the idea of trying to explain even something as simple as trying to avoid Marian's booby traps to Rabies, "can you just show us the way to camp?"

Rabies paused for a moment and looked from Rose to her companions.

"Who are they?"

"I," answered Robin's mother, "am Joan of Kensington and this is my husband Hilary. We're Robin's parents." This may have been followed by a low mutter of "as she already told you", but if it was there, it was said to quietly to be certain.

"Hang on," said Rabies slowly, as he struggled to process all of this information at once, "If you're a man, why are you called Hilary?"

Rose sighed. "Just take us to the camp Rabies."

* * *

"Right then, how's the novel coming along?"

"We've finished Sheriff" beamed Gary, producing a small wad of paper

"Well done lads, lets hear it then!" said the Sheriff enthusiastically,

"Once upon a time," began Graeme, an idiotically big grin plastered across his face"there was an otter called Larry."

"He liked to swim in the river with his friends Carl the fish and Bill the beaver..."continued Gary

"He also like his hot water bottle which kept him warm at night even if it did get cold in the mornings..."

"Then one day he found some wine and drank it."

"It was very nice."

"The end."

" I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," said the sheriff after a moment, "It was enough of a miracle that one of you managed to pull an idea out of that gaping vortex of emptiness that passes as your brain, the hope that you might be act upon that idea is as vain, as Katie Price in front of a full length mirror."

"Don't you like it then Sheriff?"

"A Baboon could vomit up a better story, even if the only things it had eaten in the past month were plastic cheese slices, toenails and anythign written by Barbara Cartland!"

"I thought it was good Gary," said Graeme sympathetically

"Yeah, I suppose it's a good job the King hasn't read any of the others. He'll never know they're not all like this." replied the other knight.

"Have you two been eating clever tablets or something?" asked the sheriff sharply, " that's twice today that you've said something that wasn't completely idiotic."


End file.
